


whisper a prayer for you

by jack_inaboxx



Series: whisting away the years [1]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25502767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jack_inaboxx/pseuds/jack_inaboxx
Summary: In the end times
Series: whisting away the years [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847554





	whisper a prayer for you

**Author's Note:**

> This is less any sort of comprehensible writing and more... an attempt to capture a feeling.

There’s this funny feeling you get, just before the end of the world. 

You start to recognize it after enough times living it, even if you don’t always recognize the signs of the end itself. 

Of course, the end of the world is only a little strange compared to living a thousand different lifetimes as yourself. 

Still. It’s a funny feeling. Always exactly the same, no matter where it happens, when it comes. 

Sometimes it’s sitting alone in the dark, pouring over too much paper and too many empty cups of coffee scattered around you. 

Sometimes it’s standing in the middle of a street, a crowd, and they’re screaming and flinging bricks and stones and calling for the heads of their enemies. 

Sometimes it’s looking up at the sky and watching it catch fire. Sometimes it’s looking up at the endless black and wondering if there’s anyone else out there. Sometimes it’s the beach, waves crashing gently on the shore- 

The top of a cliff, head in the clouds, birds singing-

Empty field of tallgrass, rustling in the wind, shhh-

Looking out the window of a tall building, watching the city bustle in the night but not hearing anything, distant-

Rain against the windshield-

A grim determination, the knowledge that this is the one you don’t come back from, no other way-

One last night before everything changes- 

Piano in an empty house, echoing, so lonely-

A forest, warm leaves on the ground, in the trees, so quiet, so loud-

There are so many ways the world ends. So many moments of that feeling, just before, like missing a step on the stairs but in impossibly slow motion. 

And for all the ways the world ends, it never just _stops_. 

You breathe in. The feeling passes. You try to clutch it close, to hold onto it, but it’s already gone. You miss it. Somewhere, a world ends. 

It wasn’t yours. 

Your world ends with a sigh, tired, and the smile of someone very old finally able to rest. 

Your world _stops_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Whist is something like a character that I write to try and figure out emotions or memories that confuse me. Someone suggested actually writing down the things that happen in my head, and from there it seemed only to make sense to post it.   
> This is... a little more personal than I'm usually comfortable with putting up. Please, be gentle with it.


End file.
